


Sounds Like a Plan

by puppyfacedbrokenboys (asexualsartemis)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, M/M, Post-Season/Series 04, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2019-02-26 11:30:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13234770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asexualsartemis/pseuds/puppyfacedbrokenboys
Summary: post season 4 finale. A Reunion of sorts.





	Sounds Like a Plan

**Author's Note:**

> sorry if monty’s grief isn’t as prominent in this. I tried to add it but it didn’t fit in to what i already had. D:

Being back on the Ark was surreal. Monty had thought he’d never see space again, and he was really starting to miss the green hues and the blue skies of Earth, and even the red of blood because that meant he was not stuck staring at the vast, never ending blackness when he was avoiding staring at the Earth spinning around below them.

Monty grew up yearning to be living on that sphere, never in a million years guessing just how vast and beautiful it was. He felt like an ant on Earth, like everything was so much bigger than them all. And now, looking out the window, it was the Earth that was once again the small one.

A slow throbbing spread across the skin of his hands under the bandages, his fingers trying to piece together a small radio from the remnants left over on the Ring. He was holed up in an alcove, his back against the wall. His hands had been patched up by Echo and Harper the best they could manage, but it was up to his body to do most of the work.

But nothing, pain or other, would keep him from his task. He had made one radio already, passing that one off to Bellamy and Raven to try to contact Clarke. Unfortunately, it had been a month with no response. But they kept trying, and while Monty had his doubts, he too hoped to hear her voice soon.

What else did they have to look forward to, really?

So Monty, having found more parts by a strike of luck, set to task of building another, private one for himself.

He had another voice he needed to hear. He had lost too many people already - his mother, father, his best friend, possibly Clarke - he needed to ensure he hadn’t lost one more.

* * *

Being underground made Nathan stir crazy. He paced much more these days, and the times he did sit his fingers would tap on his leg or his leg would bounce. If he had his own room, or any fucking where to get some peace and quiet he’d scream into a pillow and break everything in sight.

He had contemplated being thrown in the cell downstairs, but after being locked up on the Ark for years that would do more harm to his psyche than good

Instead, whether on accident or on purpose was still questionable, he’d gotten into fights with a few grounders, but all that had gotten him was suspension off of guard duty and a bloody, broken nose.

The physical pain did nothing to mask his pain of losing his father. Kane, after a particular out-of-character yelling barrage from Nathan, had finally told him the truth. His dad had given up his spot for him and Kane had honored that. The truth had left him a broken mess, weighed down by the guilt that his father was dead because of him.

On top of that, his friends had ran off on another adventure without him. That much he had gathered from listening in on Octavia speaking to Indra. Apparently they were up in space, while Miller was stuck in the damn ground where he felt like he was suffocating.

How fucking selfish.

He was truly alone. Octavia was the closest thing to a friend he had down here, and Miller was pissed at her because while her decision that all the clans share the bunker was right and fair, it had taken his father’s guaranteed spot away. She might as well have stabbed him in the heart with her sword, it had the same effect.

Maybe they were the same as the grounders after all. The reasons Jaha and Kane and Pike hated the grounders were reflected back in the darkness of their own actions. They were all the same. Just trying to survive.

Miller clutched at his head where he was crouched by a wall in a mostly deserted hall of the bunker. He hated when his mind spiralled like this, but it had been his own way of survival for over half his life by that point. There was one person he’d found during those long days at Mount Weather, that had the affinity to slow down his thoughts and he was up on that fucking spaceship too.

* * *

A month passed and the radio had been finished half that time. Another month passed with radio silence. Sometime during the fifth month (the 120th day, to be exact. Monty had nothing better to do than to count, of course. Avoiding the void that was his emotional pain), Monty felt his heart jump in his chest as the radio in his hand came to life. 

“This is Monty. Can anyone hear me!”

* * *

Five months underground and Miller was nursing a broken hand. This time it was not his fault. He and a few others tried to pry open a door within the bunker that hadn’t been explored yet and someone had let go and it smashed his hand.

He much rather it had been self inflicted. Then he wouldn’t have had to pile on embarrassment to his already towering heap on emotional pain. But he was suspended again, which meant inactive duty. So they stuck him in the control room instead.

Too many times to count he contemplated trying to open the door, but that would only kill him instead of setting him free. So instead he took to throwing a ball against the wall, letting the thudding keep him company.

He had been at it for a few hours, and was just nodding off to sleep when he heard something.

Static.

And a voice.

The voice was breaking up pretty badly, repeating itself over and over and Miller didn’t know how but he recognized it.

Miller launched himself at the control panel, squinting at the screens and trying to get his hazy brain to remember how to use it as words started to spew from his mouth. He hadn’t felt this much adrenaline, not even the fights, since he saw the sun.

“Monty?! I’m here it’s Miller. I don’t know how to work this piece of shit. Can you hear me? Monty?!”

Monty’s broken up voice was still repeating and Miller groaned. He focused on the screen, and ironically thought,  _what would Monty do?_

Finally after tapping buttons he must have made a breakthrough because Monty was yelling, “Nate? Nate, I can hear you! Can you—”

“Yes, yes. Oh, shit man you did it!” Miller was grinning and a weight  lifted off of him. He wasn’t alone after all.

“Of course I did.” Monty scoffed and Miller rolled his eyes. “I’m so glad you’re okay. How is everyone else?”

Good ol Monty, worried about everyone else. “Good, here. Well as well as can be. Octavia is Queen of the grounders, which isn’t all that surprising. It’s a long story. How are you guys though?”

“Raven got us up in space. Though not all of us made it.” The dip in Monty’s tone made Miller’s stomach drop.

“Who?” Miller asked simply.

“Clarke.”

Miller sagged back in his seat. No, not her.

“She didn’t make it. She sacrificed herself for us.”

Miller nodded, his heart tugging a the defeat in Monty’s tone. He took a deep breath, and took the plunge. He needed to be truthful. “Actually… we’re not all good here. Not all of the clans could fit, so we had to thin it down. My dad, he…” Miller trailed off and didn’t realize he was crying until the droplets hit the backs of his hands. He had held it back, hiding it under his anger for five months now and his heart and chest hurt from the force of his sobs.

Monty, on the other end, sounded shaky when Miller’s sobs had quieted down enough to hear. “Jasper. He… didn’t make it either.” and Miller, oh God, he wished he could hug the other boy to his chest, kiss his tears. Nothing could soothe the pain away, but at least they wouldn’t be so alone with miles and miles of space between them.

“God Monty, I know this isn’t the right time but who the fuck knows how long this is gonna last and you need to know,” Nathan said at length, when the silence took over so long he’d feared he’d lost Monty.

“Say it.”

“I love you.”

There was a chuckle, albeit still watery but a chuckle all the same. “Took you long enough, asshole.”

“When’s better than the end of the world?” Truth be told, it had just dawned on Miller than this feeling was in fact love. Between surviving for their lives he hadn’t put much thought into it. But the five months of not doing much and avoiding your other feelings, you learn stuff when it’s just you and your mind.

“I love you too, you know. And we’ll make it back. I’m not dying without kissing you.”

Miller smiled, truly smiled, for the first time in five months. “Sounds like a plan.”


End file.
